Boomz Boomz Pow

The people behind ‘Uniquely Singapore’ should rejoice. My tiny island home has another thing it can call its own – a word that is easy to say, seems to have multiple uses and doesn’t feel that out of place even when one speaks proper English.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you ‘BOOMZ’.

Invented by disgraced Miss Singapore World 2009 Ris Low during an interview in which her linguistic abilities have been mocked, Boomz has thus far been treated as a joke and used largely to illicit laughter.

But I believe Boomz has great potential, and could be a valuable feather in the cap of the Singapore brand. Here’s why:

1. As compared to kiasu and kiasee – two famous Singaporean words – which are essentially just spellings of their Hokkien pronunciations, Boomz is relatively original.

2. Boomz doesn’t sound ridiculous when measured against some of the words that have recently been ingrained into popular culture. Why would anyone say ‘bootylicious’ when a simple ‘hot’, or ‘sexy’ would suffice? And if Google weren’t a popular brand, people would probably be wondering what the hell it was.

3. Boomz is easy to say. I’m sure even those with nary a grasp of the English language will find it a breeze, as much as they find the word ‘fuck’ – undoubtedly the most famous single-syllable word - extremely user-friendly.

4. Unlike ‘fuck’, Boomz sounds energetic and positive, and when used gives good vibes.

5. Like ‘fuck’, it seems to have multiple uses and meanings. It can be used as part of a sentence, to describe something or even on its own:

       ‘Your performance was Boomz. I think this is the best I’ve even seen you do’.

       ‘Did you see that guy standing by the counter? I think he’s Boomz.’

       As they lay on the sheets sweating, the man, panting, whispered to his partner ‘How’d you like it?’

       ‘It was Boomz’ she panted back.

6. A permanent place in the vocabulary of a universal language would be a good addition to the accolades we’ve already picked up.

Of course, I get ahead of myself. But rather than laugh, jeer and mock it, Singaporeans should embrace ‘Boomz’. If for no other reason than to stamp the Singapore name all over it; because if and when it does become popular, some people to the North might start claiming it as their own.

 Idiocracy

Today’s economic crisis has sufficiently demonstrated that stupid American decisions are a dime a dozen. Even in the movies, where we seek refuge from the doom and gloom that the world’s superpower has inflicted upon us, Hollywood hasn’t spared us either.

Why studio executives foolishly and incomprehensibly chose to keep Idiocracy under wraps - whilst widely touting crap like I know Who Killed Me and The Hottie and The Nottie - we will never know.

What It’s About

Joe Bauers is a librarian in the US Army who prefers to keep a (very) low profile until his discharge. One day, on the grounds that he isn’t likely to be missed much, he is selected to participate in a hibernation experiment that is supposed to last for a year. He isn’t alone; a prostitute named Rita has been forced by her pimp to become the other guinea pig.

The project is quickly forgotten when the officer-in-charge is arrested and the army base demolished and replaced by a fast food restaurant. In a series of coincidences that occur only in the movies, Joe and Rita - sealed in their hibernation chambers - amazingly go unnoticed by both crews of workers. They lie abandoned until five hundred years later.

Five centuries on, America has changed tremendously, and for the worse. The landscape is ruined - towers of trash (not unlike those in the beginning scenes of Wall E) line the streets; the environment has degraded so much that dust storms plague the cities.

Costco supplies everything – from law degrees to sofas and even, sexual services (of which Starbucks is also a vendor). Carl’s Jr seems to have replaced Mcdonald’s as the dominant fast-food chain. Money is no longer used; instead, every citizen has a barcode tattooed on his wrist, from which to retrieve his personal information and deduct his bank account.

Perhaps most depressingly, Americans have devolved into stupid, childlike caricatures of their ancestors, silly enough to elect a former porn star for President and mostly talking in gibberish and broken English.

In the year 2505, Joe finds himself in the apartment of Frito Pendejo, who is enjoying a typical series of the times – a situation comedy without any dialogue that merely shows various scenes of the lead getting his ball’s crushed. In another sign of the times, the hottest movie in cinemas is a single, upclose shot of human buttocks that stays on screen for 90 minutes.

After Frito throws him out, Joe goes off to a hospital to get himself checked. While there, he discovers that people now drink only a green liquid called Brawndo; water is used exclusively for flushing toilets. In fact, Brawndo - an energy drink - has replaced water in every other function, including being used to water crops.

When a doctor becomes hysterical after realizing that Joe does not have a barcode – and is therefore considered illegal – he is arrested. Frito, a lawyer, is picked to defend him but ends up getting Joe convicted instead. However, Joe manages to escape from jail easily and convinces Frito to show him the location of a time machine, which will take him back to 2005.

Along the way, Joe, Frito and Rita - who they have now located - come across a city-sized Costco. Joe is arrested there, but instead of jail, he is sent to the White House. The President of the United States has come across the results of his IQ test – a compulsory part of his prison entry procedure – which lists him as the smartest man on the planet. The country needs Joe’s help; he is made Secretary of the Interior and is tasked with turning the country around.

To rejuvenate food production, Joe orders that water replace Brawndo in agriculture. As a result, shares of Brawndo’s manufacturer – a mega corporation and huge employer – dive drastically and the company is forced to lay off a significant portion of its workforce. Riots ensure, and the President, angered by Joe’s apparent incompetence – the short span of time has not allowed farming to show any improvement – sentences him to die.

Five hundred years later, executions have become a demolition derby-like death sport, held in packed stadiums before cheering audiences. As Joe fights for his life, Frito goes off to film the crops which have begun to grow. His images are broadcast on the Jumbotron just as Joe gets into a tight spot, and save Joe in the nick of time.

Eventually, the smartest man on the planet becomes leader of the free world and marries Rita, now the smartest woman on Earth. The produces the world’s cleverest children. Frito, on the other hand, takes eight wives and becomes father to the planet’s stupidest brood.

How It Was

The people who made this film were obviously having fun, and it shows. Idiocracy is more an unflinching assault on, and warning against, the continued intellectual degradation of America than a satire, yet it is light-hearted and doesn’t take itself seriously. The film is deliberately presented in an over-the-top fashion, no doubt to avoid depressing (American) audiences whilst starkly portraying the worst of a society that answers mostly to its animalistic instincts.

This does not imply that its effects are cheap or look ridiculous. In fact, given the film’s meager budget, commendable effort was made to construct sets and generate environments that credibly convey future America as a ravaged country in a mangled mess.

Other than playing dumb, nothing much seems to be required of the cast. Lead actor Luke Wilson basically plays himself – the straight, likeable guy.

Having Terry Crews – an African-American - act the part of the US President and his portrayal in the movie is somewhat interesting though. In 2505, the President – a former porn actor and professional wrestler – is an inexperienced leader who nevertheless loves his country and wants to cure it; in 2009, a black, relatively young and green President is trying to wrest America from the bowels of economic mismanagement. 

Idiocracy was not given a wide release and actively promoted, although a poster was made and distributed. It's a pity because a show of this caliber deserves its time of day with the larger audience it could undoubtedly attract. I’m pretty certain the show could have earned a profit on its low budget, which makes such a decision by 20^th Century Fox all the more puzzling.

PS

Unfortunately, Idiocracy isn’t readily available in Singapore; most people here have probably never even heard of it. You could buy the DVD from Amazon, download it or try and catch it on Star Movies, which I was lucky enough to.

Admittedly, the movie is an acquired taste, and isn't likely to find its way onto terrestrial television. Though it is likely to leave a good feeling in the mouth for those who give it a shot.

To Buy or Not to Buy

I was walking along City Link Mall last Wednesday when I was approached by a man peddling pens for an organization benefiting ex-convicts.

After allowing me a brief glance at a letter, which looked formal but whose contents totally escaped me, he proceeded with his pitch, and enquired if I might be interested in helping former prisoners like himself. He was soft, polite and presentable, and only his completely tattooed right arm hinted at his past.

Four pens cost ten dollars while two cost four dollars. He would get a fifty percent commission on each sale he made. In the end, I said no (I wasn’t about to pay a premium for a pen which I could get for less than a dollar). Though I did wonder why I had to pay more for each pen if I bought more.

I’m not sure if the organization was a charity since my eyeballs failed to latch on to any part of the letter. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t due to the hefty commission it’s able to pay. Nevertheless, it occurred to me much later if this organization could really be effective in the overall scheme to rehabilitate ex-convicts.

While anyone looking to help those who’ve gone astray find their way back into society must be commended, using former prisoners to milk the public of their hard-earned money for items that aren’t worth their weight in the name of a good cause and perhaps, an occasional sob story, smacks of opportunism and exploitation – especially if done for profit.

It is one thing to buy a seventy-five cent pen for two dollars from an able-bodied man, and another to buy a paper bookmark made by an intellectually disabled person for three dollars.

Whatever the case, more than not getting my money’s worth, I said no because when it comes to disbursing my extremely limited finances to good causes, helping former prisoners is near, if not at, the bottom of my list.

Personally, I prefer donating to help people who don’t have a choice. Given my narrow view of the world, this typically includes poor and lonely old folks, spastic children and financially-strapped seriously ill people, who have no or little say about their current circumstances.

Of course, some may disagree; one could have let an illness become deadly from failing to faithfully follow a medication schedule, going for regular check-ups or eating right while some old folks could chose to use the legal system to force their offspring to care for them instead of relying on the goodwill of strangers.

But I digress. Unless they were the perpetrators of a crime of passion, being a convict is mainly the result of one’s own wrong decision. Emotions may get the better of a person when confronted with a cheating spouse or someone insulting his mother, but one is usually without a clouded head before deciding to break into a flat, participate in a gang fight or sell that packet of heroin to a secondary school student.

Furthermore, prisoners already cost taxpayers a lot of money. It is almost certain that jails cause more to build and run than say, old folk’s homes and hospices, simply because specially-trained personnel and complex security systems must be put in place, alongside the food and recreational facilities that are provided.

Sure, there are those of the view that prisoners contribute in some way by being cheap labour while doing their time, but that barely covers it. Then there is the cost of tracking criminals down and trying them, all before they actually step into jail.  

That said, I’m not against the integration of former prisoners into society. In fact, I believe that most of them do turn over a new leaf after just one stint. How can we shut a young ex-convict out from the means of earning an honest living and then expect him not to return to a life of crime?

However, if the public is to be cajoled to help in this purpose, especially those who think (perhaps wrongly?) like me, I’m sure many people would have to be convinced by more than such half-baked schemes.

Attempting to sell me office stationary at ridiculous prices does not only insult my intelligence and the efforts of the former prisoner who might genuinely want to contribute positively, it smacks of someone trying to make a quick buck by playing on the sympathies of others. How will this convert people to the idea of aiding in the rehabilitation of ex-convicts?

The well-intentioned people running the Yellow Ribbon project are doing a valiant job, but if they throw their weight behind such ideas or let them unfold without comments, then perhaps the only comfort we can take is in the assumption that perhaps, they know best.

There will always be better uses for my money.

I was in the midst of the following self-centric post when I got distracted and began surfing the web. I decided to visit Shin Na’s blog – where she chronicles her valiant but ultimately futile battle with cancer – which my wife had recommended sometime back.

It is hard, for me at least, to describe the feelings that swim up when reading the musings of a dying individual, especially one with such a strong will to live and ‘never say die attitude, who perseveres despite knowing the inevitable cannot be any other way. I actually found myself tearing. My heart, at this moment, feels tremendously heavy.

Suddenly, everything seems trivial. In light of Shin’s heartfelt and powerful entries, blogs which depict the party lives of their owners, complete with pictures of pouting poses and whimsical posts on fashion, jewellery, accessories and, in general, materialism appear like trash and serve only to waste precious online space and the time of those who follow them.

I feel thankful for what I have – my health, my wife, our good families, our beautiful flat and car, our jobs (especially given the times). Sure they might not be as much as some but they are more than many. I know I cannot but continue to envy those high-fliers that are constantly featured in the Sunday Times, but at this very moment, as I type this during a break from work, I think my life is complete.

To put things in perspective, I am leaving the few paragraphs of the egotistical, selfish post that I began before it morphed into something else. A small reminder to myself not to wallow in pettiness and complacency

My Lousy Post

Some pregnant ladies (and their partners) are audacious enough to believe that getting a seat on public transportation is their God-given right and some – thankfully, the minority (we hope) – have recently taken to publicly shaming online those people who refuse to give their spaces up. This has become quite trendy apparently, and it’s caused quite a stir. My blasé attitude on this matter never fails to irritate the wife every time we talk about it.

She hates that I don’t see anything wrong with not letting an expectant mother have one’s seat, whether or not they are Priority Seats - seats designated for the needy with big signs intended to embarrass any able-bodied person into not giving them up or actually occupying them.

In fact, given my nonchalance, I wouldn’t be surprised if I logged on to Stomp – seemingly the most popular venue to air such frustrations – one day and find more than a few pictures of me, slumped in my seat sleeping (or not, but hopefully not drooling), with some snide comments about me putting on an Oscar-worthy performance of napping, complete with swaying.

Is it difficult to give up a seat? Absolutely not; I have done it on a few occasions – for old folks and parents with young children. On the contrary, it actually feels good to know you’ve done a good deed, whether or not you’re thanked (though you typically are). But from the looks of it, I’m not likely to forgo buttock space to a pregnant woman any time soon.